Shouldn't Throw Stones
by ShortTakes
Summary: A group of punks learn why people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones... especially when you never know WHO might be armed with a taser. Based on an almost true story! Written five years ago! Oneshot!


_Hi. How ya doin'? This is a story I wrote to let off some steam after a scenario similar to what Johnny will be experiencing in this story happened to me in a drama class. This was written approximately five years ago, and therefore may be considered comparatively sub-par. Either way, I hope you enjoy it._

_Oh, yeah. I don't own JtHM or any related materials. If I did, this wouldn't be posted on a fan fiction site, now would it?_

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Shouldn't Throw Stones

Truly amazing.

For once, it looked like Johnny's day was going to be semi-pleasant. No one had spoken a harsh word to him so far, nor had he been "forced" to do any reaping of the population. Even the guy working the register at the café didn't seem appalled by Nny's appearance as so many had; in fact, he had been really quite nice.

Now he was seated out in the open air in the skeletal iron chair in front of the café beneath a spreading tree that held it branches proudly up to the deep blue spring sky. A slight breeze caused the dappled patterns caused by its leaves to sway ever so slightly every once in a while.

Behind the café's cobbled patio was a small park that was separated by a low wall of tan brick, on which sat four giggly girls, not much younger than Nny. In front of them at the table that was just behind Johnny's a few feet sat four guys who could be assumed were their boyfriends, also laughing richly at apparently nothing.

Nny paid them no mind and sat with his back to them so he could listen to his CD player without distraction. He smiled and hummed along with the song, even singing softly to himself at one point, knowing that Psycho-Doughboy would be furious with him for having such a nice time in doing something as simple.

But then... "OW!"

Something hard had struck him in the back of his head and neck, almost feeling like tiny pieces of hail. He momentarily looked confused, decided it was seeds or something falling off the tree, and went back to what he was doing… when it happened again.

"What the fuck?" he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

He looked up at the tree and briefly looked around behind him to see if he could figure out what was hitting him. He only noticed the eight people behind him giggling and whispering to one another. It told him nothing.

Warily, Nny turned back around and tried to resume enjoying himself, but wouldn't you know that another biting downpour of _something_ struck him squarely in the back, and this time he was able to identify what it was.

On the table had fallen rocks; little, tiny, gold colored pebbles that were no bigger than the letter O on the keyboard on which I am typing right now. Of course, the number and velocity of the rocks made them sting quite painfully despite their minuscule size and weight.

With an annoyed growl, Johnny turned off his CD player and turned around slightly, suspecting, but wanting to truly find out before he decided to…

His thoughts were interrupted by another hailstorm of gravel and a wave of laughter from the people behind him. He spun around to face the eight behind him once again to get the proof he needed that _they _were the ones who were causing him discomfort; one of the guys held a large bag that contained the very rocks that had been striking him.

Johnny cast them one of his most daunting homicidal glares in hopes that perhaps simple intimidation would get them to stop. He _really_ didn't feel like killing anyone today.

How wrong he was. Eight massive rock falls hit him in succession followed by shrieks of remorseless laughter.

"That's it…" Nny growled getting to his feet. "Looks like I've got work to do…"

He briskly marched over to the group of eight, getting from them darkly amused looks and sarcastic murmurings of, "Oooooo!" "Uh oh!" "Now we're going to get it!"

"I was having such a nice day up until now," Johnny informed them abruptly. "Why did you insist on ruining it?"

One of the guys laughed in that way where it was obvious that he was not the brightest crayon in the box.

"You were being annoying," he said as though that explained it.

Johnny raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and you weren't?" His voice was too calm.

"Yeah, but you need to be taught to shut up!" said one of the girls.

"By throwing rocks? I suppose it never penetrated your thick skulls that you could have asked me _politely_ to be quiet?"

"What? Actually talk to you?" asked the lead guy. "I'm to cool to be seen talking to queers voluntarily!"

The group howled with laughter, one of the guys calling out, "You tell him, dude!"

Nny's right eye twitched involuntarily. "I will give you one chance for redemption before I lose my temper…" he said darkly, "… and then I will not be responsible for my actions…"

Another guy sprang to his feet in a boxing pose. "What's that? You wanna make something of it?"

He feigned a punch a Nny's face to which the homicidal maniac only responded by blinking and jerking his head back slightly, never truly flinching.

"Come on!" The guy hopped around like a prize fighter, thumbing his nose. "I'll take you, skinny! Ya too scared?"

Slowly and silently, Nny took off his backpack and set it on the ground as though he _was_ going to come to blows with the guy. Only when he began rummaging through it did it become apparent that he wasn't going to fight and was only looking for something.

"Looking for your cell phone so you can call mommy and tell her some big kids were being mean to you?" mocked one of the guys, getting more laughs from his friends.

"No," Johnny answered briskly. "In fact… Ah! Yes! Here it is!"

There was a soft mechanical hum as he turned on whatever it was he had found. Then he straightened up and turned to face the eight and reviling what he had in his hands at the same time.

It was a taser.

Nny flashed the eight stunned people a maniacal grin. "Well then, I think perhaps we need to return to may place for a little talk about respect, hm?"

The eight's fruitless attempts to get away only served to hamper them, tripping over and banging each other or even running right into Nny himself. In less than a minute, it was over.

XXXXXXX

Just how Johnny managed to drag all of them back to his house before they awoke or someone noticed him will forever remain a mystery, but in truth, it was the last thing on anyone's mind at the moment.

When the group awoke, they found themselves tethered to the wall in a dank room of someone's house. The room itself was dimly lit and smelled strongly of mold, rotting wood, and an odd coppery stench that appeared to linger near wherever restraints were placed around the room's perimeter. The walls were old and cracked and stained with dark substance and also were hung with knives and chains and some odd devices that looked like they belonged in a medieval torture museum. A few posters and messages were hung or painted on the walls, and the only exit was a door directly to their left.

"I see you've finally decided to join me," abruptly said the all too familiar voice of Nny from some shadowy corner. "I was afraid I set the taser's level too high. It's been awhile since I've had to use it." He actually had the grace to sound concerned.

"Where are we?" demanded one of the girls immediately.

Johnny stepped forward into the light and shrugged. "I don't really see why it matters… But if you must know, as I have told my guests of the past, this is just another room in the world… and here you will get what's coming to you."

"Wh-what do you mean?" she asked nervously.

"You sound like you would rather not know." Nny chuckled. "In fact, I don't really know myself. I need to decide on a method; something that will convey to you what you did to me."

"This still doesn't explain where we are or what we're going here!" spat one of the guys.

Johnny sighed in exasperation. "Then let me try again. You are in house 777, in the house of Johnny C. who happens to be yours truly, and you are about to experience what happens when you don't treat other people with respect. And I would like to add that even though you now know my name and address, there is no way in hell that you will be able to inform anyone. Only three people have ever made it out of my house alive, and one of them I released myself."

The horrible words, "only three people have _ever_ made it out of my house _alive_" began to sink into the eight like knives being pushed into their flesh.

"You're… you're going to kill us?" gasped the girl.

"Don't think of it as killing…" said Nny lightly. "Think of it as… being exterminated so as to never be tempted to bother another human being again."

"What if we apologized?"

A bark of laughter escaped the homicidal maniac's lips. "I already gave you your chance, and one of your little friends saw it as an opening to belittle me even more. Consider it a wasted opportunity.

"Now, you'll have to excuse me. I have a few other guests I need to attend to before I can focus on you. I would advise you to use the little life you have left to reflect on what you should have done differently at this afternoon's little conflict. I personally would think about how I should live if I knew today was my last day on Earth; what would I do differently?… Especially if by doing something differently today _might_ not be my last day on Earth."

That said, Nny whipped around and strode across the room to the exit where he stopped suddenly.

"Heh, heh. I was annoying you so you began annoying me. I guess you could say that people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

Johnny mounted the steps out of the room, howling with deranged laughter at the irony of it all.

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_Author's Notes: Yeah, something like this actually happened to yours truly.. I was in a drama class, and a friend and I were working on a scene when some kids in the corner of the room decided to throw pebbles at us. I haven't the slightest idea _why_ they had a bag of rocks with them, but they turned them into ballistics._

_I should add that the lines the group of eight use in this story are taken almost word for word from the kids that were tossing rocks at me, excuse included. Bunch of jerks, they were._

_And I think I should mention that, I did get my revenge on them-not in the way of Mr. C, naturally-but I wound up getting them suspended (and one fellow expelled, I believe). Worked for me!_

_That all said, please tell me what you though, and anyways you think I could improve this story._

_Until next time,_

_~ST_

_Fun Fact: Despite my stories thus far being in _Repo! The Genetic Opera _and_ Johnny the Homicidal Maniac_, I am not, in fact, all that Gothy. Weird, huh?  
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